Vive, L'Amour !
by sittingpretty
Summary: The Weasleys have always had a slight fetish for the French. So it's no surprise that, upon the occasion of her brother's wedding to Fleur Delacour, Ginny begins to fall for Fleur's young sister, Gabrielle, a passionate but mysterious French girl.
1. Chapter One: Le Début

**Vive, L'Amour !**

_**Chapter One  
**_

Obviously, the Weasleys have an affinity for French women.

Ron lusted after Fleur. Bill got engaged to her. Charlie had a brief affair with a girl named Aurélie while doing extensive research on Hebridean Black dragons in Épernay. The dancer at Arthur's bachelor party was French, too (a fact that was made extremely clear when she threw her country's flag – in thong form – onto his face).

Maybe it's a rite of passage.

Or maybe Ginny Weasley is truly in love with Gabrielle Delacour.

* * *

"DON'T YOU DARE DROP THAT!" 

The four-foot tall wedding cake trembled and wavered; its white lacy tiers wobbled and the trails of thick, pasty icing quivered dangerously. On top, the marzipan couple, a redhead and a strikingly gorgeous blond Frenchwoman, gazed anxiously at the younger redhead carrying them.

"Don't worry, mum! I've got it under control!" cried out a very exasperated Ron Weasley.

Molly Weasley raised an eyebrow and watched her floundering son try to carry the cake inside the house, where it was to remain until the actual wedding ceremony was over and the reception began. Sighing at her son's failing attempt, Molly whisked her wand in his direction and successfully – and safely – transferred the cake from his limp arms to the table.

Ron instantly let out a cry of annoyance. "Mum! I could've handled it!"

The screen door behind Ron opened and closed with a bang. Hermione Granger and Harry Potter had entered, both laughing. "Fred and George really have some quality new products..."

Turning to magic the dirty dishes clean, Molly sighed exasperatedly. "Last night, they tried out their Lewd Loo Lip on Arthur... I was sitting in bed reading when it went off."

Arthur Weasley fell out of the fireplace at that exact moment, coughing from the harsh smoke and brushing his shoulders off from the soot. "Hullo, everybody!"

Ron looked over at his father questioningly. "Lewd Loo Lip?"

Turning slightly pink, Arthur put down his briefcase. "I'd just sat down when suddenly the seat... Well, it cried out at me. Started yelling and nattering on about my disgusting fecal matter and something about the state of my bum and – well, that's quite enough for me to say, with Ron's chums here!"

Harry and Hermione were giggling again. "Really, it's fine. In fact, thanks for the warning; now we know not to use the upstairs loo," Harry said through chuckles.

After several minutes of discussing Fred and George's amazingly successful business, the room fell to a quiet and Molly clapped her hands. "All right, everyone, there's still some more cleaning to be done! The wedding is but a day away!"

* * *

Ginny was in her room, sitting on her bed and staring out at the yard below. Harry and Ron were de-gnoming the garden and Hermione was arranging dainty white fairies around the plot of land to be used for the ceremony. Fred and George were setting up chairs for the guests, lining up normal chairs amongst some of their patented Wedgie-Warper seats. Ginny smiled. 

She looked down at her lap, where her journal was placed. It was open to an earlier entry – much earlier – back to when she would fill the book's pages with lurid descriptions of short, meaningless encounters with awkward, pubescent boys that she had, at that time, thought were important and relevant. But they weren't. She saw that now.

And for some reason, she didn't think she would _ever_ return to those shallow, boy-crazy days.


	2. Chapter Two: L'Arrive

**Vive, L'Amour !**

_**Chapter Two**_

"Gabrielle! Dépêche-toi! On sera en retard!"

"Attends, maman! Je viens!" replied Gabrielle. Brushing her soft, pale yellow hair out of her eyes, she packed the last of her blouses into her suitcase and ran down the stairs, floating her suitcase behind.

Her mother was standing at the doorway, her bags at her feet. "Tu es prêtes?"

"Bien sûr!" Gabrielle readjusted her dark blue beret and nodded at her mother.

Her mother smiled at her young daughter, then nodded back and opened the door, where there was a Portkey waiting, in the form of a discarded newspaper.

"On y va!"

After the stomach-wrenching journey, Madame Delacour and Gabrielle arrived on the walkway to the Burrow, setting their baggage down and patting their hair down. It was dark out, and the yellow lights of the house in front of them summoned them forward. Once again hovering their bags behind them, the two Frenchwomen walked up to the front door, where the smiling Weasley clan instantly greeted them out of the darkness.

"Bienvenue, Marguerite!" Molly cried out in warm welcome. "Let us take your things. You can stay in one of our son's old rooms, and your darling Gabrielle can stay in Ginny's room."

"Merci mille fois," Madame Delacour gushed, kissing Molly on both cheeks.

Gabrielle smiled shyly, shifting her weight to the other foot as she took in the blazing-haired family standing behind Molly: the balding father, Arthur; the manically grinning twins; the gangly Ron and his friends, one of whom she recognized from the incident at the Triwizard Tournament; and the youngest, a girl of fifteen, with long, straight hair. Gabrielle met her eyes instantly, then she smiled faintly and returned her gaze to the bubbly matriarch.

"Je vous remercie pour votre générosité. Vous êtes bien aimable comme famille," Gabrielle said, as if in some dreamy breath, and bowed slightly. She looked up from underneath her beret at the daughter for a moment – just a moment.

Molly blinked. "Bienvenue!" she repeated again. Then she smiled and gestured towards the staircase. "You're staying on the third floor with my daughter. Here, you can meet the whole family!"

The introductions began. Gabrielle got quite confused when meeting Fred and George and almost a little embarrassed to meet Harry Potter again, after what had happened during one of the Triwizard Tasks. She was amused at Ron's stunned reaction to her glittering blue-gray eyes and very happily surprised to meet Hermione, who was able to converse in some simple French sentences with her. At the end of the line was Ginny.

Gabrielle once again bowed slightly. "Bon soir." When she looked into Ginny's eyes, she saw within the deep brown a flash of something – something momentary. "I am Gabrielle."

"My name is Ginny," the redhead replied. Then, feeling as though she should have some more marvelous or lyrical name, she added, "Genevra."

"Genevra," Gabrielle replied. She smiled shyly, then turned to her mother. "Maman, je suis vraiment fatiguée. Est-ce que je peux aller au lit?"

"T'as pas faim? D'accord, vas-y." Marguerite turned to Molly. "We are very tired, us two. Does that bother you if we go to bed?"

Molly shook her head slightly, having barely noticed they'd switched back to English. "Oh. Oh, yes, of course. I'll show you to your bedroom; Ginny, can you take Gabrielle to yours?"

Ginny nodded and beckoned Gabrielle carefully. "Erm. Aller. Aller avec moi."

Gabrielle smiled at the attempt and ascended the stairs with Ginevra.


	3. Chapter Three: Le Sommeil

**Vive, L'Amour !**

_**Chapter Three**_

Lying as she was under a patchwork quilt in a patchwork house with a patchwork family under a navy blue patchwork sky, Gabrielle could sense all the different parts of the house and the people inside it.

Sometimes, at Beauxbatons, she delayed sleeping. Instead, she would curl under her silky sheets and think about where she was. How many dorms were there in Beauxbatons? How many beds and cupboards? How many stairs, how many times had she walked up them, and how many students were still awake, perhaps pacing back and forth on these places? Sometimes, she just decided to go to sleep.

This night, Gabrielle felt the same sort of feeling – the feeling that she was just in one small place, surrounded by a great many other places – little nooks and random staircases leading to yet another redhead's room. But this time – she stretched her legs so her toes poked out from the quilt – she didn't feel so small and insignificant.

Beauxbatons was school – stoic and structured and nothing like the Weasley's house. Here, there was so much to explore, but these explorations would not be laborious or boring. She felt excited to see every little shelf and bedroom. She was excited to discover these places; at her own home, she already knew where everything was.

Ginny was asleep on the cot across from Gabrielle. The cot had only been set up a little before Gabrielle had arrived, and Gabrielle almost felt badly that she got to sleep in the big, comfy bed. The cot was flat and hard; Ginny's bed was soft and cushy. Gabrielle turned to her side and realized that she was lying in the imprint from Ginny's body. Her legs were curled as Ginny's had many nights before; her head rested where Ginny's often did. The sheets had been washed, but Gabrielle suspected that Ginny had been in the bed earlier in the day. The covers smelt light and sunny. Gabrielle couldn't think of a better scent for the summertime.

* * *

Ginny was asleep on the cot, but only very slightly. She had initially felt completely incapable of shutting her eyes for so long. She wasn't tired and she wasn't ready to lie down. She was ready. 

She had seen Gabrielle as the two Frenchwomen walked up to her house. She hadn't even been sure who it was at first, but they gradually came out of the darkness and golden light glowed on their cheeks. When she saw Gabrielle, that's when the nerves kicked in. Ginny envied the classic beret, girlishly tilted on the girl's luminous hair. The high cheek bones, the confident stride, the flowing skirt. And Ginny had to show this girl her room – her silly, dilapidated room? Ginny had known Gabrielle was coming, and she'd remembered her as a young girl during the Triwizard Tournament, but it seemed as though Gabrielle had matured lightyears beyond her.

But Ginny was like this. She first was intimidated, then envious – then, when she first heard Gabrielle speak, she realized she only wanted to hear her talk more. It wasn't exactly fascination, but the feelings were parallel and Ginny accepted it because she assumed it was just because she wanted to be more like Gabrielle.

No. Not really. It wasn't because of that at all.

She was weary. She did go to sleep.


End file.
